


All This And Heaven Too

by lilybeth84



Category: Wallander (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybeth84/pseuds/lilybeth84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus is drawn to Linda after the events in One Step Behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The moment Kurt had burst out of the room yelling about his shirt, Magnus knew something was wrong—horribly and terribly wrong.

The post card, the photo—

Not really thinking, Magnus ran after him. The man was a mess and these days he didn’t think before acting. His daughter’s life was at stake and Magnus wasn’t sure he would be able to approach the situation with any small measure of rationality.

Not that he would either, if he were in the same situation.  
  
It wasn’t far from Ake’s rooms to Kurt’s flat, and having been there once or twice before, Magnus was sure he remembered where he lived. As he approached the building, he drew his gun from the holster on his hip, inwardly cursing himself for his trembling fingers. He had never felt completely comfortable with guns, though he knew how to use one. It was part of his police training, but with such strict gun laws there usually wasn’t much of a chance to use it.

As he approached the open door, he heard Kurt’s desperate voice pleading, “Why? Why?”

Stepping through the doorway carefully, Magnus lifted his gun and cocked the hammer. He was almost unable to hear what was going on for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“Kali loved you,” Ake was saying, the pain and anguish audible in his voice. “And you didn’t even see him. I was nothing. He hid me away like something filthy and diseased. But then I made him see me and now you’re going to see me Wallander.”

Magnus sucked in his breath and held it.

“You’re going to see me…for the rest of your life.”

He heard Linda’s terrified crying and a click of a gun that didn’t go off. Then he acted. He could barely remember shouting at Kurt to get down as he turned the corner. He saw a head of blonde curls and then Ake’s astonished face. He lifted his gun and fired, hitting Ake once between the eyes, once into his chest. The look of disbelief still etched onto his face, Ake fell dead as Kurt flung himself at his daughter.  
Magnus stared at the two of them clutching each other, his gun still held aloft. Then, just for a moment, Linda met his eyes over the shoulder of her father, and Magnus let out the breath he had been holding.

He lowered his gun, the tension gone, but suddenly it was all too much for him to handle. Kurt was looking at him but he was already backing away, and bolting from the flat, he threw up his lunch all over the ground outside.

He was still retching when he felt the soft cool touch of a hand on the back of his neck. Lifting his head, he found himself staring back into the large blue eyes of Linda Wallander. She was wearing green eye shadow, he noticed. It made her eyes look even more brilliant.  
“Are you alright?” she asked in a trembling voice.

Flushing in embarrassment, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m fine,” he replied, hating how weak his voice sounded. “I just—”  
She nodded, curls bouncing. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her mouth was pinched around the edges.

Kurt was standing a little ways away with his phone pressed up against his ear talking to the dispatcher. His face was ashen and he was sweating again, but his voice was firm and steady. He looked, a lot more pulled together at this moment than he did, and for a moment Magnus felt like a child again, helpless and afraid.

Shame burned deep within his chest. He wasn’t very good at hiding what he felt, it usually showing up on his face in some shade of red, and he didn’t want them to see it. Especially her, he realized.

He tried to turn away and found that he couldn’t. He looked down to see Linda’s slender hand gripping his forearm. He had not realized she had touched him, but now he felt it like a brand cutting through the numbness that had overtaken his body. He lifted his eyes to her face, but she was partially turned away, speaking to her father who was nodding at her, still on the phone. But Magnus didn’t hear any of it; all his senses were concentrated on her.

As he stared at her, he realized how much she looked like Kurt: the same mouth; the same blond hair, though Kurt’s was mostly grey now—the same large eyes.

It was ridiculous. He had just killed a man, but the only thing he could think of was how much Linda looked like her father. He wanted to laugh, but he was afraid it might come out as a sob.

It was only a few minutes before the ambulance arrived, but it seemed like hours as they stood there together not speaking. When they finally took Ake’s body out of the house, Magnus forced himself to watch as they put him in the ambulance.

Finally a paramedic came up asking to look over Linda.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not hurt.”

Magnus noticed Kurt out of the corner of his eye silently watching them. He had a curious expression on his face Magnus couldn’t read.

“Sir—?” The paramedic was looking at him expectantly.

“I don’t need anything,” he said, his voice a trifle gruff. “I’m fine.”

As the paramedic walked away, Magnus turned to Linda. She was looking at the ambulance, the knuckles of the hand that gripped his arm were white with the pressure she was exerting, and it was clear she wasn’t as fine as she said she was.

“Linda?” Magnus said softly. “Linda?”

Her head snapped around, startled, and he was dismayed to see a sudden look of fear in her eyes. It faded as they focused on him, but before he could say anything more, Kurt had approached them looking exhausted and somewhat lost.

“Linda, we’re going to a hotel for the time being,” he said. “Until I figure out what to do about the flat.”

“Right, dad,” Linda replied quietly. “Okay.”

She let go of Magnus’s arm then, and it was all he could do not to reach out and pull it back. Startled at himself, he clamped his fists to his side. Giving him a parting glance, she wandered over to the police car. Kurt looked up at Magnus and said,

“Magnus, I—”

He broke off, but Magnus shook his head, not wanting him to finish. There were no words for what had happened. Hesitatingly, Kurt reached out and squeezed his arm in the exact place Linda had just let go of. It was a kind touch and not one Magnus would have expected from Kurt at all. Kurt went to Linda and Magnus watched them walk away hand in hand, unable to ignore the empty feeling in his heart.

After giving a statement at the station, Magnus went home and fed his cat, which, after six months of living under his roof, still had no name. He had found her, wet and starving outside the grocer last winter, and not knowing what to do, had taken her home. He had thought at one point he would give her away, but she had grown on him.

He liked her company.

Once he put down the food, he thought about making something for himself. But he really didn’t feel like eating, and after he brushed the taste of sick out of his mouth, he sat down on his couch. He thought about turning on the television, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it so he left it off and instead stared at the wall.

There were a few black and white photos of the seaside that he had taken back in college that hung there, and beneath them, his mother’s old armchair, something he hadn’t been able to get rid of when she passed. Its stuffing spilled out like fluffy snow.

The rest of his furniture was new and barely used. Almost all of it was from Ikea.

As he sat there, his thoughts turned back to the shooting. He replayed the moment he had shot Ake over and over in his head and had an argument with himself over whether or not there had been anything else he could have done.

_No, of course there wasn’t, you idiot._

But—

_What of Linda? Don’t you remember how terrified she looked?_

Yes, of course.

_And Kurt, he had no bullets. Ake would have killed her._

Right.

_Do you remember how she held you? How she looked at you?_

Yes, he had. Linda and her large blue eyes.

As if sensing his loneliness, the cat jumped up onto his lap, and turning around twice, curled up and started purring. Magnus wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of another living creature or because he was exhausted, but closing his eyes, he put his head back and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus is drawn to Linda after the events in One Step Behind.

Magnus woke up the after only a few hours sleep with a tension headache and feeling as though he’d been hit by a bus. After taking a shower, he dressed and went into the kitchen where all he had was yoghurt in the fridge. It hadn’t expired yet, so he found a stale box of muesli and ate that for his breakfast.

Kurt was already there when he arrived at work looking as though hadn’t slept or showered. He was scribbling all over the white board, obviously engrossed in what was surely a new case. Magnus sighed inwardly.

Kurt worked entirely too much, even for a detective. He was brilliant at his job but he didn’t have any boundaries. He also didn’t have any patience—especially for Magnus, and Magnus hadn’t been able to figure out why. Sure, he was the youngest, the newest—but he always did as Kurt asked even when it wasn’t in his job description, such as fixing his computer, or checking his email, or whatever research Kurt couldn’t be bothered to do himself. And usually he wasn’t happy with the results. On a daily basis he would lose his temper, most of the time taking it out on Magnus, who bore it without complaint. But Magnus had to admit it was tiring.

“Good morning, Kurt,” Magnus said, dropping his bag on his desk. “You weren’t here all night were you?”

Kurt looked over his shoulder, bleary-eyed and confused. “What? No.” he said in an irritated tone. “I dropped Linda at the hotel and came back.”

Magnus sighed again, this time rather audibly, but Kurt didn’t notice. Magnus took off his coat and went over to the board.

“What are you working on?”

“There was a murder last night, at the Church of St. Peter. A teenage boy. He was strangled by the look of it.”

Magnus gave an involuntary shudder. The cases became particularly personal with the victims were children.

“Alright, is there—”

“The parents have already been notified. I went to them myself. Go make a list of all the priests, and call them for interviews. Also, see if you can get a list of parishioners. I’m going back to the parents as soon as I’m done here.”

Magnus balked and looked out the window. It was only six o’clock in the morning.

“Kurt—” he started.

Kurt looked up. “What is it?” he interrupted.

“It’s only six. And I doubt they’ve slept much since they were told.”

Kurt looked baffled for a moment. “Is it only six?”

“Why don’t you go home. Linda might need you after yesterday,” Magnus said gently and then regretted it as Kurt scowled at him.

“She wasn’t the one puking in the bushes,” he snapped. He must have seen Magnus’s face blanche because he immediately looked ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “That was uncalled for.”

Magnus didn't say anything. He didn’t know what _to_ say.

Kurt cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed and then said, “I’ll check up on her at lunch. You go make the list and give it to me when you’re finished.”

With that he turned back to the white board and started scribbling again, forgetting that Magnus was there.  
Magnus went to his desk and began the task he had been given, but he couldn’t help the familiar feeling of rejection well up inside him, and he hated himself for it.

Magnus hadn’t grown up with a father, and he supposed he had always imagined Kurt might be something of a father figure in his life. But he was kidding himself. Kurt would never see him as anything but an annoyance, a lackey to do the work he didn’t want.

They worked in silence until a quarter to eight when Ann-Britt arrived and ordered them both into her office.

Magnus knew what she was going to say and he didn’t like it, but at least he had the grace to look sheepish. Kurt just stared at her, a stony expression on his face.

“There’s going to be an inquest,” she said sternly, addressing Magnus. “And you need to take some time off until it’s done. You know the rules.”

“But we’re understaffed—” he tried to protest, but she raised her hand and shut his mouth.

“I’ve also arranged your first appointment with a counselor,” she continued. “It’s on Friday, and I want you to go.”

Magnus knew there was no point in arguing with that, so he nodded grudgingly.

Great. This was just what he needed. More alone time in an empty flat.

“And you,” she said sharply, turning to Kurt. “Go and spend time with your daughter. I can’t order you to stay away from work, but I’m strongly suggesting it.”

Kurt hesitated slightly before he gave a short nod.

“Now get out,” Ann-Britt ordered pointing to the door. “I don’t want to see either of you for at least a week.”

Magnus heard Kurt muttered something nasty under his breath, and he knew Kurt would be in tomorrow just as he always was. And there was little Ann-Britt could do about it.

“I’ll do the research for you from home,” Magnus told Kurt as they walked out together. “And if you need anything else, let me know.”

Kurt looked up, the look on his face suggesting he hadn’t expected such an offer from him. Magnus felt the bitterness creep up inside him. Why was he always so surprised?

“Oh. Right,” Kurt said. “Thank you, Magnus.”

Magnus didn’t answer, but threw his things in his bag and left. He looked back as he pushed open the door, but Kurt was staring at the white board again, oblivious to his surroundings.

Damn the man. Damn him to hell.

So Magnus went home and after taking a pain killer and drinking a cup of coffee, he sat at his computer and made phone calls. It was one o’clock by the time he sent Kurt the list of priests. Immediately after hitting send, his phone began to ring. He picked it up and was surprised to see Kurt’s name.

“Kurt,” he said warily. “I just sent you the list.”

“I know,” came Kurt’s voice. “I just realized it’s after lunch and I don’t have time to check on Linda. I have to go back to the church.”

“D-do you want me to go see how she is?” Magnus asked hesitatingly.

There was a pause.

“Would you?” Kurt said finally. “She says she’s fine, but—”

“I’ll go now,” Magnus said firmly. “Just give me the address and room number.”

As soon as he hung up the phone, he sat back in his chair, staring at the paper he had written the information on in disbelief.

Why was he reacting this way? He didn’t know Linda. Sure, he had met her a few times over the years, but he had never seen her as anything more than Kurt’s daughter. Was it because of Ake? Was it because he had saved her life?

He was still puzzling it over in his mind as he knocked on her hotel room door.

After a moment it opened, and there was Linda was looking up at him, her hair tied back in a messy bun. He could only stare back, unable to find his voice as his heart thudded against his ribcage.

“Martinsson,” she said, her voice betraying her surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he said, finally finding his voice. “Um. Your dad….he asked me to come check on you.”

It sounded lame and horrible and she obviously felt similarly because the change in her demeanor was noticeably apparent.

“Oh,” she said flatly. “Well you can tell him I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

The bitterness in her voice pained him. She was about to close the door, but he suddenly put his hand out.

“Actually I was wondering if you’d like to get a coffee,” he said in a rush, feeling the heat flare up in his face. “There’s a café downstairs, and I’m on suspension and—”

“I’ll get my coat, she said quickly. She went in the room and Magnus let out a shaky sigh.

They walked down to the café in silence. Magnus was afraid if he did, he would bring up yesterday, and he didn’t know if she wanted to talk about that.

He ordered two espressos and they sat down.

“So what is dad doing now?” she asked finally, pouring sugar onto the table. “I take it he’s at work.”

“He was when I left him,” Magnus said slowly. “A boy was murdered.”

She sighed and made patterns in the sugar with her finger. Magnus had a sudden vision of taking her finger coated with sugar and putting it in his mouth. He flushed and she looked at him curiously.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired,” he lied. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

She looked up at him seriously. “No, I don’t suppose you did. I didn’t either.”

The subject had been broached, and there was nothing to do but continue. He did feel a sense of relief though. The elephant in the room had been addressed.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” she continued, “even though I know he’s dead. I keep seeing his face, and I feel so sorry for him. But I also hate him”

“I believe that’s normal.” Magnus said quietly. “I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before, but I—I’d never killed a man either. He was my first.”

She jerked her head up suddenly, her eyes wide. “I just realized I never thanked you properly—at all.” She put her hands on her cheeks that had just turned pink. “You must think me so ungrateful.”

“No, no,” Magnus protested with a shake of his head. “Of course not.”

“God, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, I just—”

She stumbled and then it all just spilled out.

“—you know my dad just dropped me off here last night and left. He left me alone, and you’re the first person I’ve seen since yesterday. I was almost shot and he—he left me.”

Her voice cracked and then she put her face in her hands. Her shoulders started shaking, and Magnus realized she was crying. It was bloody awful and he didn’t know what to do.

“Can we leave?” she asked, her voice muffled. “Please?”

“Yeah,” he replied, relieved that she had given him a way out. He put some kroner down on the table for the coffees and in a moment of impulsiveness, grasped her hand in his and took her outside. He pulled her along as she sobbed with her face in the crook of her arm.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped. “I didn’t mean to do this.” They stopped in front of a park on the next block and he let go of her hand. She ran the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing her mascara in the process, making it look like someone had painted feathers under her eyes.

“Its fine,” he said, and when she scoffed, he said, “No, really, I don’t mind at all.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Martinsson.”

“It’s Magnus,” he corrected her, digging around in his pocket for his handkerchief.”Call me Magnus.”

“Magnus.” She repeated softly, and hearing his name on her lips sent shivers down his spine. “Thank you….for everything. For saving my life.”

“You’re welcome,” he said handing her the handkerchief. She looked at it and then him.

“A handkerchief?”

He smiled sheepishly. “My mother always made me carry one as a child, and I suppose just got used to it. It’s a bit old-fashioned.”

Then she laughed, and Magnus’s heart leapt with joy at the sound. She had a beautiful laugh.

“God, I must look like a mess.”

“No, you still look very pretty.”

She looked up in surprise and Magnus instantly wished he hadn't given himself away so easily. Becoming flustered, he turned back towards the hotel.

“Well, I can walk you back up if you like.”

“No,” Linda said. “I think I’ll go for a walk. I need to clear my head”

Her cheeks were pink and she didn’t meet his eyes. Feeling a fool, he said,

“Right. Well, I’ll see you—talk to you later.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “See you.”

Magnus cursed himself for his awkwardness as he watched her walk away. He had to do something.

“Wait, Linda?” he called after her.

“Yes?” she turned back to him expectantly.

“I—I was wondering,” he stammered. “Do you want to meet tomorrow or sometime? We could go have…dinner.”

_Dinner? Oh, God, it was obviously a date. What the hell had he been thinking?_

“That would be wonderful,” she said softly, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.

“Really?” he asked, unable to help himself. “I mean…alright then. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Good-bye, Magnus."

And as he watched her walk off, he felt a tiny glimmer of hope.

It was the first he had had in a very long time.


	3. Chapter Three

When Magnus got home, he called Kurt to let him know that Linda was fine.

“She wishes you were there,” he said, but getting nothing from him, he dropped the subject. He certainly didn’t tell him they were going to have dinner tomorrow night. He couldn’t imagine how that conversation would have gone.

Kurt gave him a list of things to do and he spent the remainder of the day thinking about nothing but work.  
It was two in the morning by the time he went to bed exhausted, but unable to sleep. Finally when he did finally fall asleep, he dreamed...

_He was standing outside Wallander’s house, his gun in his hand. It was eerily silent, and the landscape had a grey quality to it that wasn’t natural. Suddenly he heard a voice coming from inside the house._

_Why? It was asking. Why?_

_Kurt? He called. Is that you?_

_Why? Came the voice again._

_Cocking the trigger, Magnus entered the house, and his heart pounding in his chest, turned the corner of the doorway to the living room._

_It was Ake, a hole in his forehead, another in his chest. He was holding his gun to Linda’s head and staring at Magnus with a sorrowful expression._

_Why, Magnus, he asked. Why did you do it?_

_I had no choice, Magnus pleaded. Please—_

_He cocked the trigger. Terrified, Magnus tried to shoot him again, but it only clicked. The chamber was empty. Ake pulled the trigger and Magnus was left holding Linda in his arms, wet with blood—_

“No!”

Magnus’ eyes snapped open and he jerked over. It was a few moments before he knew he was awake. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing came out in short pants. He was also sweating.

He pulled back the covers and realized there was a wet spot on the front of his pajama pants and another on the sheets beneath him. Even in the darkness of his own room he blushed with shame.

“Dammit,” he muttered, ripping the sheets off the bed and tossing them into the hamper. He pulled his clothes off and they went the same way as the sheets.

He looked at the clock. It was only five in the morning, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, so he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as he could stand.  
He stayed in there for fifteen minutes just letting the water fall over him, willing it to wash away his shame and his fear.

He had never wet the bed in his life, not even as a child.

Dressing, he fed the cat, and went out to his car. He was halfway to work when he realized he wasn’t supposed to be there. Not wanting to go back home, he just drove out into the country. It was almost midsummer and the nights were in a perpetual state of twilight.

Usually Magnus loved this time of year. As a child his mother would make potatoes with herring and strawberries, and they would celebrate Midsummer’s Eve trying to tell the future. But this year it had been depressing. He felt like he was living in a shadow.

He was halfway to Malmo, before his stomach growled in protest and realized he hadn’t eaten anything. Stopping at a roadside stand, he ordered an omelet and a coffee. The coffee was terrible but he drank it anyway. When he was done, he got in his car and drove back to Ystad while listening to the radio.  
It was almost noon by the time he returned. He checked his phone and discovered three missed calls, all from Kurt.

He drove over to the station, and sitting in his car, called him back.

“Magnus,” Kurt’s voice crackled. “I’m at St. Peter’s. Are you near the office?”

“Yeah, I’m outside,” Magnus answered.

“I’ve just been to speak to one of the priests, a man by the name of Albert Fredricksen. He said that Haglund wasn’t alone. He was with his girlfriend, Christina Olin. ”

Magnus stared at the ceiling of his car and closed his eyes. “Who?”

“Haglund, Magnus” Kurt snapped. “Eddy Haglund, the boy whose murder we’re investigating?”

“Right,” Magnus said, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Look, if you can’t—”

“Kurt, just tell me what you want,” Magnus interrupted, losing his patience.

“I want you to do your job!” Kurt snapped back.

“Just—tell me.” He was too tired to argue with him. He’d never win anyway.

“Go to Christina Olin’s house, interview her and get all the names of his friends. Her name is on a paper next to my desk. Then I want you to do a background check on all the priests you made a list of—see if there are any abuse charges, things like that.”

“Right, I’ll do it,” Magnus replied. “Just—don’t tell Ann-Britt it was me—”

But Kurt had already hung up.

There went all his plans for that evening. He felt a trickle of anxiety as he thought about what he would say to Linda. If he told her he had to work, she might think he was like her father, but he also didn’t want to lie.

He settled for telling her the truth. Calling the hotel, he had his call redirected to her room. It rang, but she didn’t answer. Feeling slightly relieved, he left a message with the front desk.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. He interviewed Christina Olin, but she was an emotional wreck. She got so hysterical he mostly talked to her mother. If he went with his instincts, there was something not quite right about her behavior, but there was nothing he could do about it then. He would let Kurt know and he could come back and talk to her.

It was after midnight when he finally finished the background checks and too exhausted to drive home he collapsed on a couch in the station and fell asleep almost the instant his head hit the cushion.  
He woke hours later, his heart pounding in his chest and the lingering terror of his nightmare in his mind. He sat there a few moments in the semi-darkness waiting for his heart to slow down enough to get up.  
It was a good ten minutes before he felt he could drag himself off the couch. He had an appointment with the therapist at eight o’clock, so he decided to use the shower in the office and a spare change of clothes he had in the car.

He had just finished brushing his teeth and was returning from the restroom when he ran into Ann-Britt . At first she looked surprised, but he must have looked guilty because she let out a sigh.

“Did you sleep here?”

“Erm.”

“You are on suspension, Magnus!” she exclaimed in exasperation.

“I know,” he said feeling guilty. “But I need to be busy.”

Her face softened.“As soon as the therapist approves and the inquest is over, you can come back to work in earnest.”

“Yes, I know” he said, turning to go. He was halfway down the hall when she called back to him.

“And, Magnus? If you’re going to sneak around, don’t get caught. The others will think you’ve gone and turned into Kurt. We don’t need another one of him around now do we?”

“No,” he replied. “No, we don’t”

 

An hour later he was sitting in the psychiatrist’s office in a comfortable armchair, a glass of water on the table next to him. The therapist in front of him was considerably older than he was, and had not smiled once since he sat down almost an hour ago.

“So,” she said, looking at the chart on her clipboard, her thin lips pursed together. “You’re having trouble sleeping well.”

It wasn’t a question.

“And…you’ve had a bed wetting incident?”

That was a question, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. The humiliation bubbled up inside him and he stared at his shoes.

“Yes.”

“And this was…two nights ago.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“I see.”

But Magnus didn’t see. He wanted her to prescribe something and let him go. Even at 188 centimeters, he felt small in front of her, like a child in front of his teacher after he did something bad.

“If it only happens once, I don’t think it will be too much of an issue. Bed wetting can be a side effect of PTSD. But if it continues for more than a couple weeks, I’ll want to address it again.”

“So, it might not happen again?”

“Maybe not,” she replied.

“Is that it?” he asked hopefully.

“I want you to keep a journal of your dreams,” she said scribbling on his chart.

Magnus’s heart sank. “Why?” he asked.

“We’re going to start something called Image Rehearsal Treatment for your nightmares. You replace the ending of the dream with something positive and rehearse it. Over time, your nightmares should end with a less distressing outcome.”

“Oh.”

Well, it didn’t sound terrible; though he wasn’t sure he wanted this woman to know every intimate detail of his dreams.

“I can do that,’ he said. “But what about my work?”

She eyed him over her spectacles.

“I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t after the inquest is over.” Silently she handed him a slip of paper with her approval on it, and Magnus left her office clutching in his hand.

 

It was afternoon by the time he realized he had not received a phone call from Linda, and he began to worry that she had either not received his message, or worse…she was upset with him.

He debated or not whether he should call her again or leave her alone. It was evening by the time he ended up going over to the hotel to see her in person. Nervous, he took the stairs instead of the elevator, and upon reaching her door, he took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He knocked three times.

She opened the door after a few seconds. “Magnus! You’re here!” she exclaimed ushering him in. “I’m so glad!”

Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes told a different story. They were too bright and there were dark smudges beneath them—the kind that only insomniacs get. He felt a twinge of concern and wondered if Kurt had made her an appointment to see a therapist for the trauma she had endured.

He followed her in and noticed the general disarray of the room. There were empty coffee cups and plates of leftover room service everywhere.

“…so the end of the message was sort of garbled and I couldn’t make out your number so I couldn’t call you back,” Linda was saying moving around in an erratic manner. She seemed to be looking for something.

“Linda,” he said suddenly. “Have you left this room since I last saw you?”

She stopped moving and stared up at him. Her clothes were wrinkled as though she had slept in them and her hair was wild around her face.

“I—no, I haven’t,” she admitted.

He picked up an empty cup. “You shouldn’t drink so much caffeine.”

She sat down on the bed, twisting a ring on her finger over and over.

“Has Kurt been here?”

“Dad? Oh, yes, he has.” She motioned to scattered plates. “Do you really think I could eat all this? And so badly?”

She was looking distastefully at the remnants of a cheeseburger and Magnus smiled at that. Kurt was always saying how Linda nagged him to eat better.

“I just—can’t sleep, Magnus.”

Her expression made his heart twinge uncomfortably.

“I know,” he said softly. “I—”

He was about to tell her of the nightmares, but he suddenly stopped himself. He wasn’t sure why.

“Well, do you want to go out for dinner?” he asked instead.

She smiled up at him. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

 

He took her to his favorite French restaurant a few blocks from him house. They were seated at a small table outside in a dark and quiet corner. It was very nice, but Magnus thought it might be a little too much. He eyed her nervously to see what her reaction was, but if she felt uncomfortable, she didn’t let on.

She ordered bouillabaisse and he ordered the steak au poivre. He thought about ordering a glass of wine, thinking if she drank, she might sleep. Feeling bold, he did.

They ate mostly in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. After they finished, they ordered more wine.

“So you used to come here with your mother?” Linda asked.

“Yes, she loved this place,” Magnus said with a smile. “She died last year—of breast cancer, but we came here all the time up until the end.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, her brow furrowing.

Magnus shook his head. “It’s alright. I miss her of course, perhaps more than normal. My father was gone when I was growing up, you see. She raised me alone.”

“Well, I had both,” Linda said. “But they divorced recently, which I’m sure you know.”

Magnus nodded. Kurt hadn’t taken his wife’s separation well.

They continued talking about their childhoods which were surprisingly similar even with such different parents. They also talked about the police force. Linda was interested in pursuing a career as a detective, which surprised Magnus. He had always thought Kurt was so different from his daughter, but as he watched her speak with such passion, he realized that just as they looked similar, so were they in many other ways.

“So,” he started, feeling that it was time to ask, “Have you seen anyone yet? To talk to about what happened.”

She toyed with the glass and didn’t look at him. “Dad arranged it.”

He was relieved. Kurt may have been a terrible parent in some ways, but not all.

“Good,” Magnus said, but there was something she wasn’t saying. “What is it?”

She looked up at him guiltily. “I didn’t go.”

Magnus was quiet.

“Why not?” he asked finally.

“I didn’t want them to give me pills.”

Magnus stared at her. “So you’re downing liters of coffee instead?”

She looked angry for a moment and then she began to laugh.

“I suppose it’s pretty stupid of me,” she sighed.

“Well, I had mine today and I wanted her to give me pills,” Magnus admitted. “Instead I got dream journaling.”

“Dream journaling?” Linda asked. “What is that?”

“Oh, you know,” he mumbled. “For my dreams.”

She didn’t push him, and for that he was grateful.

“You should go,” he said softly. “It will help. Just tell them you don’t want drugs.”

“Alright,” she said finally. “I will.”

As they talked the hour grew later and soon they were the last ones in the restaurant. Magnus looked at his watch and realized it was half past eleven. He went up to pay the check and came back to find her staring out the window, her eye lids drooping sleepily.

“C’mon,” he said, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take you home.”

“That’s not home,” she replied, getting to her feet. “It’s a hotel. And I’m a little drunk.”

“I know you are,” Magnus said helping her outside. “That was the point.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “You were trying to get me drunk? That was very sleazy of you.”

“It was only to help you sleep,” Magnus said wryly. “You need to.”

He opened the car door and she sort of dropped down into the seat. He shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. As he slid in, he looked over to find her head thrown back and her eyes closed. After a moment’s hesitation he leaned over her body and grabbed the seat belt. He could feel the soft whisper of her breath on his neck and part of him wanted to stay there forever. But he pulled back, and carefully making sure not to touch her, he buckled her seat belt.

At the hotel, he half carried her into the lobby, ignoring the disapproving looks from the staff behind the front desk. If he were honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if the wine had been a good idea. He never would have thought it would only take her two glasses to get this drunk, but then again, she hadn’t been sleeping. Of course she was drunk.

He had seriously not thought this through.

When they got into the elevator, he threw propriety to the wind and lifted her into his arms. He was not a small man, but he had to admit she was heavy.

A smile crossed his face as he thought about what her reaction to him thinking she was heavy might be.  
He stumbled off the elevator and went down the hall to her room. He was in front of the door and set her down, his arm around her waist to keep her upright.

“Linda,” he said. “Linda, the key.”

“It’s in my purse,” she said drowsily. “I’ll get it.”

It took her almost a minute to find it, and once they got the door open she stumbled in and flopped onto the bed. He took off her shoes and set them down next to the door. As he was covering her with a blanket, she opened her eyes, startling him.

“Your eyes are green,” she said softly.

His heart skipped in his chest and his mouth dried out. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her in that moment, but of course he didn’t, and a second later she was passed out, snoring softly.

With a sigh Magnus placed the key on the dresser and left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.  
He went home because there was nowhere else for him to go. He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, but it wasn’t long before he had fallen asleep.


	4. Chapter Four

_He was outside Wallander’s flat, his gun pointed towards the open door. As he approached it, he heard the voice, asking again, why? Why?_

_His heart thumping against his ribs, he stepped into the house and cocked his gun. He turned the corner of the doorway._

_Ake stood there holding his gun to Linda’s head, blood running down his face and chest, his face twisted in anguish, saying, Why, Magnus? Why did you kill me?_

_I had to, Magnus replied. Please—_

_He cocked the trigger and Magnus tried to shoot him again, but it only clicked. The chamber was empty. Ake pulled the trigger and then he was gone, and Magnus was left holding Linda in his arms, wet with blood.  
No, he sobbed, no—_

Suddenly he woke up. Someone was screaming and it was a moment before he realized it was himself. He snapped his mouth shut and threw the covers off the bed. He almost cried in relief to find everything dry. Curling up he put his face in his hands, and the cat jumped up on the bed and meowed at him, visibly upset by his tears. He reached out and touched her soft fur, and she settled down beside him, offering what comfort she could provide to someone who needed much more than just an animal’s love.

He didn’t sleep the rest of the night, and when he finally got up to shower, he was already exhausted. After forcing coffee and toast down his throat, he checked his email, only to find his inbox filled with messages from Kurt.

The last thing he wanted to do was read them, but he did it anyway. They were all about the case except for the last one:

_Magnus,_

_This one isn’t about work, I just want to know how you are coping._

_Kurt_

Magnus could only stare at the screen in shock. Kurt actually cared about him enough to ask how he was.  
He clicked reply and stared at the screen, unsure of how to respond.

_“Dear Kurt, I have nightmares where I watch your daughter die which then causes me to piss myself….”_

No. That wouldn’t do.

_Kurt,_ he wrote.

_I had an appointment with the therapist yesterday. I can return to work as soon as the inquest is over._

_Thanks for asking,_

_Magnus_

It sounded so stiff, he almost deleted the entire thing. But Kurt had made something of an effort, and he didn’t want to discourage him from future questions in regards to his well-being.

After he finished replying to the work related emails his phone rang. It was Ann-Britt .

“Magnus? The inquest is finished. You were cleared to go back to work.”

Magnus’s insides sank with relief. He didn’t have to keep pretending any longer.“Thanks, Ann-Britt .”

The phone rang again not seconds after he hung up. This time it was Kurt.

“Hello?”

“She’s dead, Magnus. Christina Olin is dead.”

Magnus felt cold.

“Where?”

“The lake. Next to the church.”

He hung up and grabbed his keys, and in twenty minutes he was staring down at the body of the girl he had interviewed not days before.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Her face and body were bloated, having spent a considerable amount of time in the water.

“A priest found her on his morning walk.” Kurt said. “Nyburg says she went the same way as Haglund.”

Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on brought on my tension and lack of sleep.

“I knew something was wrong,” he said feeling guilt welling up inside him. “When I talked to her, her behavior…it wasn’t normal.”

“She knew something,” Kurt said intensely. “What was it?”

It was a rhetorical question, so Magnus didn’t answer. He didn’t have an answer anyways.

The body was taken to the morgue and Magnus and Kurt went back to the office. Anne-Britt gave Magnus a smile when she saw him.

“Welcome back, Magnus,” she said kindly in her way.

Magnus felt a surge of warmth for her and he smiled back.

They brainstormed and argued until lunch time when Magnus went out to get a sandwich and he ran into Linda at the door, his heart flip flopping in his chest as he set his eyes on her. She looked much better than the night before, the smudges under her eyes having lessened. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and there was sparkly yellow eye shadow across her eyes.

“Magnus,” she said in a tone of delighted surprise which warmed him to his core. “You’re back at work?”

“Oh, I was approved to go back today,” he said sheepishly. “Um. How do you feel this morning…did you sleep well?”

She blushed. “Oh, it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in a week. But I don’t think I’ll be using wine as a coping method any time soon.”

Magnus blushed too. “Sorry about that. I didn’t think you would be that inebriated.”

“Anyways, thanks for getting me home. I hope I didn’t say anything too weird.” She looked up expectantly and visions of wanting to kiss her the night before flashed through his head.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing weird.” He changed the subject. “Are you waiting for your father?”

“Yes,” she replied, the smile fading from her face. “You know he needs someone to look after him.”  
Magnus nodded, “Yes, I know.”

They stood for a moment and then she said, “Oh! I also wanted to let you know I’m going to my mother’s for a week or so.”

The warm feeling of seeing her evaporated and he was left feeling cold. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes, but I’ll be back soon! And I rescheduled the appointment to see a psychiatrist.”

“I’m so glad,” he replied, seriously. “I don’t like to see you suffering.”

She blushed and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Magnus,” she said softly. “I’ve been very grateful for your friendship these last few days.”

She was silent a moment and then started hesitantly, “I was wondering…”

Suddenly her mouth snapped shut and her hand was gone, and when he looked up, she was looking over his shoulder. He turned around to see Kurt coming down the stairs. When he turned back and she was smiling at him, but it wasn’t the easy smile of their previous interactions. There was something guarded there now, and he knew it had to do with the presence of her father.

“I’ll see you when you get back,” he said softly before she could say anything. “Bye, Linda.”

And without waiting for a response, he hurried out the door, not daring to look back.

The days dragged slowly for Magnus after Linda left. The nightmares still plagued him every night and he woke up crying, the feeling of Linda’s dead body in his arms lingering as he jerked from the clutches of sleep. He dutifully recorded his dreams for the therapist, who judging from the way she eyed him over his spectacles, could see right into his soul and read it better than he could. They rehearsed a different ending every time, one where Ake put down the gun. He always left feeling like maybe the next dream would be different and he wouldn’t wake up in terror.

But it never happened and finally she said something to him about it.

“I think there is something else going on here, Magnus,” she said. “It isn’t just the shooting, its more.”  
“Really?” Magnus asked, bemused. “What else is there?”

She squinted at him. “I think you need to figure that out before you can move on.”

Magnus left feeling frustrated. Wasn’t she supposed to be helping him? Not giving him riddles to solve?

Work was slightly better than his therapy, though he had a hard time focusing due to lack of sleep. But he trudged on, working harder than ever. Even Kurt was surprised by the hours he put in.

It was almost two weeks after Linda had left when they finally solved the murders of Eddy Haglund and Christina Olin with arrest of a priest who admitted to murdering both of them. He had been molesting Eddy since he was a child, and finally when Eddy grew old enough to stand up for himself, he threatened to tell on him and the priest lost his temper and strangled him. Christina had come to him after she found Eddy’s diary documenting the whole thing, and so he had killed her too.

Feeling sad and exhausted, Magnus drove home.

When he got there he found his neighbor Mrs. Myrdal had left a bowl of strawberries on his porch. She was an older woman, widowed and sometimes too nosy for her own good, but she was sweet. Touched by her thoughtfulness, Magnus took them inside and set them on the table. After taking a shower and feeding his cat, he decided to cut them up and have them with his dinner

He had just started when there was a knock at his door. Startled, he almost cut himself. Thinking it might be Mrs. Myrdal, he wiped his hands on a towel and opened the door. His words of thanks died on his lips as he found himself confronted with a vision that made his heart stop.

It was Linda, but she didn’t look like Linda. She looked like something out of the fairytales of his childhood, dressed in a lacey white dress and gold flats, her hair in a halo of golden curls around her head.

“Hello, Magnus!” she said brightly.

“What are you doing here?” he practically squeaked out.

She held up a bottle of champagne and smiled mischievously, a blush of pink color crossing her cheeks. “I have a party to go to and I want you to come with me! Are those strawberries I smell?”

She pushed her way inside into the kitchen, and as she passed he felt a stab of longing course through him brought on by the whirlwind of blonde curls and the delicate musky floral scent of her perfume. He shut the door and followed her in. She was on her tiptoes searching through his kitchen cabinets.

“Where are your containers?” she asked. “Let’s take the strawberries with us!”

Bemused, he wordlessly handed her a plastic container from the drawer next to the sink. She gave him a bright smile, and scooping the strawberries into it, handed it to him.

“Now let’s go!”

And grasping his hand, she pulled him out the door, barely giving him enough time to grab his keys and wallet off the table next to it. “Where are we going?” he asked, staring at the back of her head as it bounced along the corridor.

“There is a party outside the city up on a hill. It’s all a bit Pagan, I hope you don’t mind.”  
“No, of course not!” Magnus replied. “Um. What are we celebrating?”

“It’s a friend’s birthday, but I think it’ll be something of a continuation of mid-summer festivities.”

“I never celebrated Midsummer at a party before,” Magnus said thoughtfully.

They had reached his car, and she turned around, astonished.

“Really?”

Magnus shrugged. “I always celebrated it with my mother. It was her favorite holiday.”

“Wow,” Linda breathed out. “You’re lucky. We never did anything.”

Magnus smiled at the wistfulness of her tone.

“Well, I promise, this will be amazing,” she said. “A night you’ll never forget.”


	5. Chapter Five

They drove out into the country, the music of Florence and The Machine filling the car, and all the windows rolled down. The perpetual twilight gave the earth an ethereal quality, the colors all washing together on the horizon, and Magnus felt like they had left earth all together, having instead had taken the path to the heavens. Any moment he expected to see the rainbow bridge to Asgard before him.

He looked sideways at Linda who had her arm out the window, her fingers spread against the wind. Her hair flew out behind her and there was a soft smile on her face as she looked out at the land that sped by them.  
They soon came along a long line of cars at the bottom of a large hill. There was a giant light at the top. Parking they began walking up the hill.

“It might get a little crazy,” Linda warned with a laugh. “My friend isn't exactly tame."

“Oh, I’m expecting all kinds of hedonistic acts,” Magnus joked. “Though I fear I’m not really dressed for the occasion.” He gestured to his simple black sweater and trousers.

Linda looked him up and down appraisingly and said, “You look very…dapper.”

Magnus smiled and felt joy bubble up within him.

As they reached the top of the hill, they were greeted by a huge bonfire, music, and at least a hundred people.

As they wandered through the crowd, a girl with glitter in her hair came up and grabbed a hold of Linda’s hand.

“Linda, you came!” she squealed. She turned to Magnus. “And this must be Magnus. Pleased to meet you.” She stuck her hand out which Magnus took.

“Happy Birthday, Alva!” Linda said happily.

“Nice to meet you,” Magnus said shaking her hand.

Alva smiled and turned to Linda. As they chatted, Magnus looked around. Everyone was dressed in bright  
costumes representing the otherworldliness of the night. Lots of people were dancing to music around the fire, and he thought he caught a whiff of roasting meat.

Linda hadn’t been kidding when she said it was a Pagan party. He felt a pang of sadness. His mother would have loved something like this…before the cancer had spread to her liver and lungs.

A soft touch in the middle of his back brought him back to the present and he turned to find Linda standing before him with the champagne and a plate of what looked like herring and sour cream.

“Let’s eat,” she exclaimed handing him the plate. He took it and they found a place near the fire to sit. She opened the champagne with a pop, and took a long drink. She held it out to him, but he gave her a look.

“If you want to get home tonight, I can’t drink that.”

“Oh, who cares?” she scoffed. “We’ll just sleep here!”

He laughed and took the bottle. “It’s on your head,” he replied, and took a long swig. The champagne went down, warming his belly.

It was only a matter of time and a bottle of champagne later that he was comfortably and happily drunk. All his inhibitions had gone up with the smoke of the bonfire, and taking Linda’s hand, he pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s dance!” he shouted over the noise.

“Really?” she asked, astonished. “You want to dance?”

“I’d do anything right now!” he shouted.

“Don’t tempt me!” she shouted back, her eyes flashing in the firelight.

So they joined the frenzy of dancers. Someone had changed the music to something Magnus didn’t know, but it had a drum beat that pounded deep within his soul and he didn’t want to stop moving. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Linda, who in the twilight looked as magical. They weren’t even touching, but he felt closer to her right then any other person in his life. Her cheeks glowed in the firelight and her hair shone impossibly brighter. She radiated life, and he wanted nothing more than to live forever in this moment.

Hours later, the bonfire had burned low to the ground and the cool night air had invaded the bubble of heat that surrounded them. Many people were had left, but others remained, huddled around the fire or strewn about in tents.

He and Linda were near the fire, leaning against each other back to back. The alcohol and strawberries were long gone, and Magnus could safely say this had been the best night of his life.

Linda’s head was resting on his shoulder and could feel her breath on his cheek in a warm caress.

“That was unreal,” Magnus said slowly. “I’m still having trouble believing this was something more than a dream. I have never felt more alive than right now, thanks to you.”

She laughed. “Yes, everyone is always more filled with life in the summer.”

“And none so much as you,” he murmured against her hair.

She grew quiet and he turned to look at her, afraid he might have said something wrong.

“I—” she hesitated. “It’s strange that you would say something like that.”

“Why?” Magnus asked.

“When—I tried to kill myself once. I was fifteen.”

Magnus was stunned and suddenly afraid.

“Why?”

“I was so desperately unhappy,” she replied quietly. “Depressed. My dad was the one that found me.”

Magnus stared into the flames, watching them dance. He had never thought that Kurt’s relationship with his daughter was so complex.

“You—you don’t feel that way now, do you?” he asked slowly. He didn’t think he could bear it if she were suddenly gone from his life.

“No,” she said sleepily. “I never will again. I promise.”

Magnus didn’t respond, and after a few minutes he heard her deep even breaths of sleep. Slowly he lifted himself and gently lay her down on the ground where she curled up, tucking her feet under her dress. He draped his sweater over her shoulders and smoothed away the curls that had fallen into her face as she adjusted herself. Laying down next to her, he fell asleep as well.

 _He was outside Wallander’s flat, his gun pointed towards the open door. As he approached it, he heard the voice, asking why? Why?_

 _His heart thumping against his ribs, he stepped into the house and cocked his gun. He turned the corner of the doorway._

 _Ake stood there with blood running down his face and chest, his face twisted in anguish. He had a gun, and he was pointing it at the top of Linda’s head._

 _Why, Magnus? He asked. Why did you kill me?_

 _I had to, Magnus replied. Please—_

 _I’m going to blow her brains out all over this room, Ake said. An eye for an eye…_

 _He cocked the trigger and Magnus lunged—_

 _There was a terrified scream and the bang of a gun, and then he was sitting on the floor cradling Linda in his arms covered in blood and blonde hair._

Magnus jerked up with a sob, nausea in his stomach. “Linda!” he cried.

“Magnus?” came Linda’s sleepy voice next to him. “Magnus, what’s wrong?”

What had been a brief and happy moment, it now seemed to be crumbling into pieces around him and he couldn’t handle it anymore. He had to get away.

Scrambling to his feet, he started running.

Tears streamed down his face as the shame and fear ate at him from within. He ran until he found himself in a grove of birch trees at the bottom of the hill and the stitch in his side would let him go no further. In the middle of a clearing he collapsed to his knees sobbing, his nails digging into the moss covered ground as he tried desperately to grab onto any remaining shred of himself.

There was a rustling sound behind him and he whirled around just in time to see Linda run into the grove with a look of fear on her face, her chest heaving and her feet bare. When she saw him, she hurled herself at him. They collided as her arms flew around him wrapping her fingers in the tangles curls of his hair. He rested his forehead against her shoulder.

“Magnus, Magnus,” she cried. “What is it? Please tell me?”

The anguish in her voice brings him up short and he looked up to see tears running down her cheeks leaving streaks in her makeup.

“I’m afraid I’m losing myself,” he whispered, gripping her shoulders. “I live it over and over again, every night in my dreams. He comes to me and asks me why. Why did I kill him?”

“Oh, Magnus. Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked tearfully, her fingers fluttering around his face. “You didn’t have to keep it inside!”

“I can never stop him!” He grasped the sides of her head. “I hold you in my arms covered with your blood, and watch you die. I don’t want to watch you die anymore!”

“You never will,” she promised. “I promise. Not until I am old and grey and—”

Overwhelmed, she pulled him to her chest and just held him.

They stayed in that grove of trees until the sun was high in the sky and all the fears, while not gone, had lessened. Hand in hand, they walked to the car. Linda wordlessly took the keys from Magnus and got in the driver’s seat. She put her foot on the break, and he realized she had left her shoes at the top of the hill.  
Magnus looked down at her bare toes, nails painted a bright shade of pink.

“You want to go back and get them?” he asked quietly feel slightly self-conscious.

She thought about it a moment. “No,” she said, starting the car. “Think of it as a sacrifice to Baldur. He can wear them into the underworld.”

Magnus laughed weakly in spite of himself. “Right,” he said. “Baldur in gold slippers. Now that I’d like to see.”

They stopped at a rest area to use the restroom and brush their teeth with the spare toothbrush Magnus had in his glove box. They reached Ystad by the early afternoon and she drove to his flat and parked on the street. Taking the keys out, she handed them to him.

He took them from her and she leaned up and pressed her lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes, just for a moment… until she pulled away.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asked, his voice sounding like gravel in his ears.

She shook her head. “No, I’ll walk. It’s a beautiful day.”

Magnus looked up at the clear pink and blue sky.

“Yes,” he said, “it is.”

He watched her walk down the sidewalk with a confused heart.

He went into this flat and lay down on his couch. The cat leapt up and curled up on his chest, and for the first time since the shooting, he slept soundly and without dreaming. It was almost six in the evening when he woke up to a sharp knock at the door.

Stumbling from the couch he went over and opened it, blinking as he tried to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.

It was Linda.

Suddenly he was awake. She was still wearing the white dress and her feet were still bare. It was obvious she had not gone home.

“Hey,” she said, and there was something in her voice that made his heart race.

“Do you want to come in?” He asked quietly.

“Okay,” Linda replied without meeting his eyes.

She stepped into the room and the moment he shut the door behind her a thick tension filled the air. She was standing so close to him he could smell the smoke from the bonfire in her hair as it mixed with her perfume. Underneath it all was the slight scent of sweat and of her skin. It was intoxicating and he felt the familiar pangs of desire deep within his belly.

“I shouldn’t have left you,” she said not looking at him.

His mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”

She looked up at him, her eyes dark. “I should have stayed. I was out just walking around, not knowing where to go...and I realized. I should be here with you.”

And then she leaned up and gently pressed her lips against his.

He closed his eyes and draw in a shuddering breath when her lips parted under his own. Her mouth was sweet with a hint of peppermint and her lips soft. Gripping her waist with his hands, he pulled her against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Wanting to get closer, he lifted her, and she gripped his waist with her knees and pressed herself against his belly. He could feel the heat from between her thighs and it made him shudder in anticipation.

He gripped her hips and just held her, kissing her over and over again until she whimpered against his lips, and whispered, “Please, Magnus.”

Carrying her into his bedroom he laid her down on his bed and crawled over her, his arms resting on either side of her face. Her fingers tangled in his curls, her touch electrifying his nerve endings, setting them on fire. His lips found hers again and he slipped his tongue between them, stroking and caressing.

He slowly moved one hand down her neck to her breast and applied the softest pressure against the nipple he could feel hardening under the thin material of her dress.

She let out a sigh and pushed up against his palm. Feeling emboldened by her response, he took advantage of her arched back and slipped his hands under her back where he found the zipper of her dress. He unzipped it and pushed it from her shoulders. Dipping his tongue into the shallow cleft of her collar bone, he pulled the flimsy material down past her breasts, brushing her nipples with his knuckles.

He swallowed hard. Her breasts were small and perfect, with pink nipples and pale smooth skin. Taking one into his mouth, he sucked gently. She gasped in response, her fingers burying in his hair.

Kissing his way across her stomach, he pulled the dress down further revealing lacy white knickers. His lips paused at the edge of the waistband and looked up at her.

She was watching him, her cheeks flushed with desire, and he needed no words. Slipping his thumbs underneath the elastic, he slowly pulled them down, revealing dark blonde curls and the heady scent of her arousal.  
Separating her knees, he pressed his tongue against the small bundle of nerves there. Her fingers gripped the bed sheets and she uttered out a small whimper that made him tremble with desire.

When she came her knees tightened on either side of his head, and then she was pulling him up to her, her hands under his sweater, fingers running over his skin. She pushed him back onto the bed and clutching the bottom of his sweater, pulled it up over his head. Running her hands down his chest, she found the waistband of his trousers and soon they had gone the way of his sweater, and there was nothing between them but the thin cotton of his pants.

Their eyes met and he reached up and brushed a damp curl away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek into his palm. It was a tender touch, but to Magnus, it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen. His whole body ached with desire.

He rolled her over then, her breasts pressing into his chest, his erection pushing into her belly.

Separating himself from her just for a moment, he reached down and pulled off his pants. Grabbing a condom from his nightstand, he rolled it on and settled once more between her legs, the tip of him pressing gently at her entrance.

“I would have let you in anyways,” she whispered. Then she lifted her hips and suddenly he was inside her.

Her velvety softness surrounding him was exquisite, and he almost cried out at the sensation of it. The only thing that stopped him was her lips against his, and the movement of her hips as her heels dug into the muscles of his buttocks.

As he moved within her, he tore his mouth from hers and pulled back to watch her face. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed the most lovely shade of pink, and her lips were parted and swollen from his kisses.

He lifted her up, supporting her with his knees and arms while their hips moved together. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, and he felt laid bare as though she could see into his soul.

He wanted to bury himself inside her, under her skin where she could never get him out. Threading his fingers in hers, he pressed her back onto the bed, holding her arms above her head.

He thrust harder and faster and she began making tiny little mewling sounds that tore at his self-control.  
Suddenly she was rippling around him and her eyes snapped open and met his, pupils dilated with ecstasy.

It was his undoing and he shattered into a million little pieces inside her, her name spilling from his lips over and over again.

He wanted to stay there forever inside her, feeling her heart fluttering against his chest and her warm breath in his ear, so it was with reluctance when he opened his eyes.

She was watching him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and he felt his heart leap into his mouth.

“Linda, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice full of emotion. “Nothing at all. You were wonderful…so, so, so wonderful.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair, “for coming back.”

He held her until she fell asleep, and when he was sure she wouldn’t wake up, he got up and went to take a shower. Having slept most of the afternoon, he wasn’t sleepy so he made himself something to eat and sat in front of the TV petting his cat and watching some old rerun of an American sitcom.

It was impossible to pay attention because he was distracted by how unreal everything felt. For the first time in a very, very long time, he had a woman in his bed. And not just any woman, but one he cared about very, very, much.

Cautiously, he crept back into his room and stood at the doorway. As he watched her sleep, his heart began to thud painfully in his chest.

He realized in that moment he was in love with her as he had never been in love with anyone before. He was so in love with her he almost forgot how to breathe. It made him lightheaded, and he thought he might explode from all the emotions running though him at that moment, like electricity through a wire.

He wanted nothing more than to wake her up and tell her right then and there, but suddenly he felt cold as old fears of rejection bubbled up inside him.

He had only known her, what? Three weeks? How was it possible that she would love him as he did her?  
Even plagued by doubts, he realized whatever it was they had, it was good enough for now.


	6. Chapter Six

He later awoke to find Linda gone and his cat in her place. For a moment he feared she had gone, but he heard her voice coming from the kitchen. She was singing.

Quietly he tiptoed into the doorway. She was standing at the stove cooking, clad only in one of his shirts, her hair pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head.

She was beautiful.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, making his entrance. She looked up, and her smile lit up her entire face.

“Good morning! Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” he said enthusiastically, sliding into a stool at his kitchen counter. “Whatever you’re making….it smells wonderful.”

“Just an omelet. Something my mother used to make for me as a child.”

She scooped it off the pan and onto a plate which she took over to him. She handed him a fork. He took a bite. “Really good,” he said, his mouth full.

She laughed, but then turned serious. “Did you sleep better? I didn’t hear anything, so I thought you might not be dreaming.”

She looked so concerned he placed his hand over hers. “I haven’t slept so well in a very long time,” he said truthfully.

She blushed and leaning in, pressed her lips up against his. “Me neither,” she whispered.

His fork clattered to the table and it was at least another hour before Magnus made it to work.

 

In the weeks that followed, Magnus’s nightmares became less frequent and less terrifying. Even when he did wake up in the middles of the night soaked in sweat and crying out in fear, she was there to stroke his hair and assure him she wasn’t dead.

He told her of his shame when he had woken up to find he had wet himself and his terror of doing it again. He told her how much he missed his mother, and how difficult it had been to raise a young boy on her own. He told her all his most shameful secrets and she told him hers: how when she was sixteen she had lost her virginity to an older boy at a party and then the next day he didn’t call her, and she found out he was with another girl; how hard it was to see her father’s slow spiral of destruction and her fear that he wouldn’t live to see her marry or have children.

They still hadn’t told Kurt of their relationship, and neither had broached the subject of when they should do so. The nights she spent with Magnus, she told him she was with friends or at her mother’s. It was almost too easy.

But easy things soon come to an end.

Magnus dropped Linda a couple blocks away from her father’s flat, and after giving her a long and proper kiss, had driven to work. He said good morning to Ann-Britt and was just sitting down to check his email when he heard his name shouted from below.

“MAGNUS!”

Confused, he looked over and Ann-Britt, who shrugged. He got up, and was heading towards the shouting when he saw Kurt appear on the top of the stair looking angrier than Magnus had ever seen him.

It only took him a second to realize what it was about, but he didn’t get to say anything, because the next thing he knew Kurt’s fist had collided with the side of his face and he tasted blood.

“Kurt!” Ann-Britt yelled as Nyburg ran up and tried to pull him off Magnus.

“Dad, what are you doing?!”

Bemused, Magnus looked up to see Linda standing in the doorway, white, an expression of horror on her face.

Kurt picked up the collar of Magnus’ jacket. “What do you think you’re playing at?” he growled into his face. “I asked you to check on her once, and then I find out you’ve been screwing her behind my back?”

“Dad!” Linda cried, her face flushing in humiliation. “Dad, that is none of your business!”

Kurt let go of Magnus then and whirled around to face her. “I want to hear it from him!” He snarled, pointing back at Magnus who was desperately trying to stem the blood pouring from his nose.

“I want him to look me in the face and tell me he’s been fucking my daughter!”

“Kurt,” Magnus said thickly. “It isn’t what you—”

Kurt grabbed his shirt and hauled him up against him. “It isn’t what I think, eh? Either you’ve been fucking her or you haven’t! Which is it, Magnus?”

Magnus didn’t answer. He had no answer, but he could feel a simmer of anger in his blood.  
“Tell me wh—”

“What do you want me to say?” Magnus snarled, wrenching away. “Okay, Kurt. Not that it is any of your business, but yes, we are in a relationship.”

“Oh, a relationship!” Kurt sneered. “Is that what you call it?” Then his face crumpled and he looked tired, sad, and old. “I trusted you, Magnus, and you betrayed me.”

There were tears on his face and he looked devastated, but Magnus had had enough and didn’t care anymore. He was tired of taking the blame for things, for always being Kurt’s emotional punching bag.

“Betrayed you? I checked on her for you, when you asked. Where were you when she needed you? Why was I the one picking up the pieces, Kurt? Because you couldn’t be bothered to take the time off and do it yourself! Your daughter needed you and you failed.”

Kurt’s mouth went slack and he turned white as a sheet.

“Why?” he asked hoarsely. Why did you do it?”

“It had nothing to do with you, Kurt, as much as you might like to think it does,” Magnus said thickly through the blood. “Not everything I do revolves around you.”

But Kurt wasn’t listening. “You betrayed me, Magnus,” he repeated. “Why? Why? WHY?”

His face twisted in rage and he lunged at Magnus again, but Magnus was prepared this time. He returned Kurt’s punch, hitting him square in the face and shouted without thinking, “BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

The room fell deathly silent. As Magnus realized what he had just done, he slowly turned to Linda who was staring at him in shock. There was a flicker of disbelief on her face and then she turned and ran. Seconds later Magnus was running after her, ignoring the hands that grabbed his arms and the voices that followed him.

He pounded down the stairs just in time to see the tail end of her dress fly out the front door.

“Linda!” he shouted, not caring that everyone stared, not caring that he was covered in his own blood.

He burst out onto the sidewalk but she had disappeared. He stood there, bloody and feeling so terribly alone.

He chose not to go back up, but texted Ann-Britt that he was going home for the rest of the day. He didn’t think his nose was broken, but it hurt.

Though not as much as his heart did.

He drove home fighting the despair that overwhelmed him.  
He went into the bathroom for his first aid kit and pulled off his soiled shirt, tossing it into the shower. He had just gotten out the antiseptic when there was a knock at his door.  
Anger surged up inside him, and slamming the bottle back onto the counter, he went out to answer it. It was probably Mrs. Myrdal. Trying to keep his temper in check, he pulled open the door roughly and was stunned to find Linda there staring up at him, a strange expression on her face. After a moment he opened the door wider.

“Your face,” she said. “Does it hurt?”

“Not much,” he lied.

She followed him into the bathroom which, almost too small for one person, was entirely too small for two.

She gently pushed him down onto the toilet as she began to administer to his face, first wiping away the blood and then placing a bandage over the bridge of his nose. Her touch should have given him comfort, but somehow it only left him aching for something he could not define.  
After she was done, she leaned back onto the sink and that was when she finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“No,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. Especially not—”

“Did you mean it?” she interrupted, looking as though she were going to cry. “I know that you like me, and the sex is...amazing—”

She blushed and he felt his own face heat up as he remembered how she looked when he made her come.

“— but it’s not just because we’re lonely, is it? It isn’t just because you saved my life?”

“No,” he replied. “I—I thought about that, but it isn’t that.”

He got to his feet, frustrated at all the words inside him that wanted to come out. He had never been one for eloquence.

“Before I met you, I was lonely but it didn’t bother me until you came into my life. I knew you existed Linda, but I didn’t really see you until that day. When you put your hand on my arm and stayed with me. You were so frightened, but you stayed with me, and you cared. The party….I’d never been to anything like that before, and it was like waking up to life. Everyday I’m surrounded by death and anger, but then I come home and you are there, so passionate, so full of that life I was missing. And I fell in love with you. It was just…that simple. Perhaps me saving you is what brought us together, but it isn’t what is keeping us together. At least not me.”

Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Joy bubbled up inside him as he felt the heat from her body as it molded against his. He never wanted to let her go, but suddenly her nose hit his too hard and he gasped in pain.

“Oh, your poor nose!” she cried, pulling away and clapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry he did that to you!”

“No, its fine,” he said grasping her hand. “I would have probably done the same thing.”

“No,” she laughed. “No you wouldn’t. You are much too kind.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You really think that?”

She laughed, but then turned serious.

“Of course, Magnus. You are the kindest man I have ever known.”

He touched her cheek affectionately. “If I am so kind, I should go speak to your father.”

She sighed. “Yes, me too. I should have told him sooner.”

“I’m afraid he’ll never forgive me,” Magnus replied. “Work will be difficult to say the least.”

“No, Magnus. You saved my life and he’ll never forget that.”

“I would do it again,” he murmured, drawing her back to him. “Always.”

“I know.”

Magnus found Kurt hunched over his computer, his mouth drawn into a thin line and his skin tinged grey. He did not look well.

“Kurt,” he said hesitantly. “Can I talk to you?”

Kurt didn’t look up from the screen.

“Kurt, please,” Magnus said again.

Reluctantly, Kurt looked up, a scowl on his face.

“I wanted to tell you I was sorry,” he said. “Not for being with Linda, or for loving her, but for not telling you sooner that I did.”

Kurt didn’t say anything.

“I know you and I have our…differences,” He continued, struggling to find the right words. “Our relationship is not always an easy one, but I do respect you.”

“If you respected me, you would never have done it,” Kurt said coldly.

“That’s unfair,” Magnus protested. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you would act like this. Yes, I should have told you sooner, much sooner, but I’m not going to give up the woman makes me happy because she happens to be your daughter. I don’t understand why this is so difficult for you.”

“It’s difficult,” he said between clenched teeth, “because she is my daughter. And you are a detective in my department.”

Magnus let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s because she’s your daughter, and you wouldn’t like any man who wanted to be with her. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, Magnus.” Kurt stood up abruptly. “It’s because you work for the police. You are constantly placed in dangerous situations, and if you were to die, you would leave her alone and in pain. I don’t want that life for her.”

Suddenly Linda appeared by his side, startling him.

“But dad,” she said softly. “It’s my life.”

His face softened as his eyes fell on his daughter.

“I know. And see what it did to your mother.”

He paused painfully.

“And to you.”

Linda’s expression grew sad and she put her hand over her father’s. He gripped it.

“That’s a choice you made,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “And I’m not going to live my life making up for your regret. It’s not fair to ask that of me.”

Kurt let out a heavy sigh. “No,” he said. “It’s not. I’m sorry Linda.”

“I love you, dad,” Linda said, pressing her lips against his rough, unshaven cheek.

“Love you too,” Kurt mumbled letting go of her hand.

“Magnus,” he said gruffly. “We have work to do.” And with that, he turned and went out of the room.

“Right,” Magnus said as he watched him go. “I’ll be right there.” He turned to Linda who was watching her father retreat, her brows drawn together in worry.

“Was I just forgiven?” Magnus asked slowly. “Or was that something else entirely.”

Her brow smoothed out and she gave him a small smile. “I think it was something else entirely, knowing my dad.”

Magnus’s disappointment must have shown up on his face since Linda brushed her knuckles against his cheek.

“It’s a start, Magnus. He’ll come around in time. It just might be a few—”

“Years?” Magnus interrupted sardonically.

Linda laughed, and the sound filled Magnus with warmth, pushing the disappointment away. He took Linda into his arms, smelling her hair, its musky floral scent comforting and enticing all at the same time.

“Perhaps,” she murmured into his chest. He didn’t see the smile leave her face and the worry return. She hugged him tighter.

“Perhaps.”


End file.
